


The Hatchling

by kiyala



Series: The Peoples' Dragon [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Temeraire Fusion, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Enjolras becomes the captain of a newly hatched Flamme-de-Gloire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hatchling

Grantaire is drunk, as he is wont to be. He is sitting in a tavern with Bossuet, Joly and Bahorel, the four of them passing a bottle of wine around as they smoke, enjoying their day off. He never appreciated how much time he was given off as a child, he thinks ruefully, too busy complaining about the sums Lamarque would give them once they were done with their cadet duty, complaining again when Combeferre would not let him copy, or even peek. Now, at the age of one and twenty, he considers himself lucky if he has the energy to do very much in his time off other than drink and sleep. He and the others work hard and since Grantaire has graduated from being a cadet, he has served in almost every role in a dragon crew, on a variety of dragons. Liberté remains his favourite, and it's not just because of the fact that Enjolras has been made a permanent member of Liberté's crew, serving as a midwingman for years now, though that doesn't exactly hurt. 

He has news, and when Grantaire has news, especially _big_ news, it is incredibly difficult for him to keep it to himself. The wine doesn't help at all, and they've barely drunk their way through half the bottle before he clears his throat.

"Enjolras is going to be made captain."

His three friends stare at him in silence. Grantaire is renowned for being one of the best at finding out information, matched only by the Thénardier siblings. If it is news about Enjolras, Grantaire is guaranteed to be the first to know.

He clears his throat quietly. "There's a Flamme-de-Gloire egg hatching in about a month. Can you think of anyone else better suited to it?"

Bahorel laughs at that, taking a pull from the wine bottle. "A fiery dragon to match his fiery temper. Imagine that. Nobody would want to get on his bad side. Not even you, R."

"Me?" Grantaire asks with a self-deprecating smile. "I was _born_ on his bad side, my friend."

Bahorel kicks Grantaire's shoe gently, giving him a brief pitying look that only makes Grantaire feel worse. It's been five years and a rushed, messy kiss shared with a serving boy at the back of a tavern since Grantaire has realised that he prefers men to women, though he suspects that he may have been in love with Enjolras for longer than that. It doesn't matter, because Enjolras doesn't realise, and never will. It's better like this anyway, because unlikely as it is that Enjolras would somehow realise how Grantaire feels, it's even less likely that Enjolras would _reciprocate_ his feelings. It would be met with disgust at worst, or a polite let-down at the best. Grantaire knows Enjolras well enough to know that he doesn't usually do _polite_. The best Grantaire can hope for is for Enjolras to never find out.

"So what do you think?" Bossuet asks. "Combeferre as his first-lieutenant?"

"And Courfeyrac as his second," Joly adds. "Obviously."

"Obviously," Grantaire echoes. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly. "We'll see for ourselves in a month when that dragon egg hatches, won't it?"

Absolutely nobody is surprised when Grantaire turns out to be right. He doesn't get to see the actual hatching itself, because there are rules about who is allowed to be present when a dragon hatches, and Grantaire is very much not in their number. There are three potential captains, and Grantaire has no doubt that Enjolras will be the one to be chosen by the dragonet. 

Sure enough, when he goes out into the courtyard, there is a small crimson dragonet, the size of a small dog, twining its way around Enjolras' legs, its harness glinting in the sunlight. There is a gentle smile on his face that Grantaire has never seen before, a look of utter adoration in his eyes. It makes Grantaire's chest clench up and it's ridiculous, because he didn't even think it was _possible_ to love Enjolras more than he already does. He walks forward, doubting that he's even welcome, but Enjolras doesn't seem to mind, wrapped up in his dragonet. 

"Isn't she beautiful?" Enjolras murmurs, looking up at Courfeyrac with a smile as he walks over to join them. 

"She is," Courfeyrac agrees, crouching down beside Combeferre and reaching out a hand. "Have you named her yet?"

"My name is Patria," the dragonet chirps happily, her tail flicking against Enjolras' leg.

Grantaire snorts, loud enough to capture Enjolras' attention. "Of course it is."

Enjolras frowns at him, but Grantaire holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. 

"She's gorgeous, Enjolras. Congratulations. I knew it would be you."

Nodding in thanks, Enjolras turns his attention back to Patria, stroking her head gently. "I'm glad that she did. I don't know what I was expecting when I thought of becoming a captain, of having a dragon choose me, but this certainly wasn't it."

There's a sense of wonderment to his voice that Grantaire would do anything to hear more often. It occurs to him then, when he reaches a hand out and Patria nuzzles into it, that he doesn't want to be separated from Enjolras, and doesn't want to be separated from Patria either. It makes no sense for him to be as attached to the dragon as he is already, but he supposes that if Enjolras cares for her, then it's only a matter of time before he does, too.

He finds Enjolras later, once the sun has gone down, and he is still sitting outside in the courtyard with Patria, a lantern to give him light and a blanket to keep him warm. Patria notices him first, wriggling out of Enjolras' arms to greet him. Enjolras looks confused to see him and Grantaire supposes that he can't be blamed. Even Combeferre and Courfeyrac have begged off to bed by now, and it _is_ late.

"Grantaire."

"Hi." Grantaire smiles, crouching down to run his hand down Patria's back. "Congratulations, again."

"Why are you here?" Enjolras asks. "I doubt you would have come out here at this time, just to reiterate your earlier sentiment. Or do you wish to laugh at Patria's name once more?"

"Oh, Enjolras. Patria is a perfectly lovely name. It suits her, and it suits you." He licks his lips. "I didn't mean to offend. I'm sorry."

Enjolras nods, and Grantaire knows that's the best he's going to get.

"The reason I came here," Grantaire says, after a moment's pause, "Is to request, if you would allow it, that I be part of Patria's crew."

"You?" Enjolras asks, and the doubt in his tone hurts, justified as it is. "What would you do?"

"Anything," Grantaire replies honestly. "I _can_ fill any position you require. But I would request midwingman, if I could."

Enjolras gives him a curious look. "You are the first to ask for a position. Combeferre and Courfeyrac will be, because I have asked it of them, but you…"

"Of course, she will need to grow." Grantaire looks down at Patria with a fond smile. "She has plenty of growing to do, but once she is ready…"

"I will consider it," Enjolras replies, and Grantaire nods. He'll take what we can get.

"Can we keep Grantaire?" Patria asks curiously, nudging Enjolras with her muzzle. "Just as you are mine, can we also have Grantaire?"

Enjolras' tone becomes immeasurably gentler when he speaks to her. "I will think about it, my dear. You have quite a way to go before any of that."

"Will you at least sit with us for a while, Grantaire?" Patria asks. "I did so like it when Combeferre and Courfeyrac played with me."

Grantaire looks to Enjolras, who simply shifts to make room. With a smile, Grantaire sits down, laughing delightedly as Patria immediately crawls into his lap. 

"Are you a dragon or a cat?" he asks her, scratching under her neck, and laughing again when she rumbles with contentment. "I suppose cats don't learn to spit fire, do they?"

"When will I learn to do that, Enjolras?" Patria turns to Enjolras, who reaches out to pat her as well. "Everyone has made mention of it and I cannot wait! I will produce the biggest flames, and everyone will marvel at them!"

Grantaire chuckles fondly. "She's certainly your dragon. Looking forward to a life of singed clothes and the smell of smoke clinging to everything you own?"

Enjolras smiles, and it may not be meant for him, but it makes Grantaire's heart grow to twice its size all the same. "I look forward to it."

Grantaire knows better than to say it out loud, but he's looking forward to it too.


End file.
